We Start and End as One
by rookieD
Summary: (Two-shot) (Season 4 speculations). We learn, we grow, we change. Sometimes the hardest part is figuring out how to try to do any of that. Celebrating one friend's next step, could be the start of celebrating your own.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Some time late last night I purged this in response to prompts from radleyboo (aka sourgummysharks) and Becca. This is a one-shot only, but who knows, if inspiration strikes I may have a go at Andy's POV as a second parter._

_ALSO:_

_I know tensions are high with regard to the release of season 4 promos, but I do ask that reviewers that are angry with characters or goings on are respectful when leaving their thoughts. We (including said characters) each have our story to tell._

**Disclaimers & warnings: **

_I don't own Rookie Blue, 'Islands in the Stream', nor 'The Gambler'._

_The following is also based on one rumour floating about in terms of whose 'wedding' we actually see middle of season 4. _

* * *

**we start and end as one**

* * *

Sam watches on from the bridal table, his eyes scanning the crowd of faces and celebratory moods.

He's never been one for weddings, but this one is different. Puffy white gowns and extensive floral arrangements are low on the list –

(It's definitely different; at least in appearances to Ollie and Zoe's first go at this...)

Sam spots the lucky friend he happens to be on best man duties for today. Shaw is out there in the middle of the dance floor with his beloved; crooning in time with the loud country music he's no doubt selected himself for this part of tonight.

Oliver's got a tight grip around Zoe's waist and has just finished singing the points he wanted emphasised right in her ear. He catches Sam's eye as the song fades in volume -ready for whatever soppy number might be played next.

Shaw nods in his direction; chin digging into the shoulder of the woman that earlier today he 're-vowed' some things with.

Sam winks back at him, can't help but feel genuinely happy for his best buddy and how things are panning out for the Shaw's second go-around.

("Be my best man," Ollie told him a week or two ago, with one fist pumping into Sam's shoulder as they sat at the bar of the Penny.

It took a while for Sam's brain to catch up; Shaw had actually made some rumblings previously that he and Zoe were finally taking the plunge and renewing their vows. Initially, Sam thought it might have been lip service, but it seemed that both parties were determined to celebrate the renewal of their relationship in a significant way.)

Sam takes a sip at the warm Champagne that's sitting in front of him, a leftover from all those toasts they just had. It's not something he'd normally drink, but then again, these past 12 months have been all about change –

He screws up his face at the taste of it. After another moment of letting acid subside though, he allows a dry silent laugh to himself –

Sam guesses no matter how hard you might _try_ to acquire a taste for something new, there's the possibility that it may never really sit right. And if you don't like warm bubbles…

His eyes land on Marlo for a fleeting second. The tiny brunette looks nice tonight, relaxed and happy even.

Sam doesn't feel any pangs of regret as he watches her dance with bomb-squad Brett, or whatever the name of her date. It may've taken Sam a while to get his head around _why_ things weren't working with her...but in the end, well –

Sam realized that there's more than one way to _try._ (And that it doesn't always have to involve somebody else).

A familiar hand puts a glass of scotch in front of him. It's accompanied by a bright, friendly voice that might be less guarded thanks to a few bubbles she's had as well. "Thought you could use something that was more to your taste."

Sam grins. He feels some warmth in his chest without even bringing the glass to his lips.

When he looks up, McNally is smiling down at him, one hand on her hip.

Sam nods, and then shakes his head.

(He still doesn't like the thought of giving some things away. It's a bad habit, and he knows it – not having the willingness to disseminate what _should_ be revealed, and at what times. But. This past couple of weeks, he's been trying, at least –)

"Your observation skills are A plus plus in this particular case, McNally" he tells her, eventually. He smiles a little easier when he gets a pointy eyebrowed response. She is –

Undeniably cute.

Extraordinarily beautiful, too. Even more so tonight. The dress she's wearing is beyond the sexy or pretty he's been fortunate enough to see her in a few times before. It's…floaty and feminine, layers of print in variations of blues and purples that make her look like some sort of Cherokee princess –

Well, maybe not quite. What the dress adds with the high neckline… it shows off in the bottom half. Those long, long legs of hers have been killing Sam since he first saw her today.

Tonight she transcends everything Sam's ever been able to conjure up in his head. She's elegant and breathtaking, and what he likes most is that she also looks like herself. Sam questions whether it is actually anything to do with the pretty dress though. Every day she just seems more confident, perhaps more determined and skilled at working a whole lot of things out for herself.

"Want some company?" she asks him, casual and easy, bringing Sam's attention back to her face.

(It's taken them a while to get to this point; not being jumpy and tetchy around one another. Not being on either attack or defence the moment they're in one another's sights. Sam wondered at one stage whether it would ever _not_ be frustrating and exhausting...but somehow, he doesn't even know...these past few weeks they've started to talk to one another without an agenda...and actually really _listen_ to what gets said in response.

Maybe it took those weeks before of them fighting and arguing over every little thing...or that one week at work where they didn't talk to one another at all...

Whatever the case, it now feels a whole lot like they are genuine friends).

"Decided to sit with the cool kids for once, huh?" Sam teases, winking at her. The joke comes out like any other he's delivered, but as friendly as they are now, he's still not at the stage where he doesn't hold his breath when a tease comes out of his mouth -

McNally cops it on the chin though; retaliates swift and light.

"Ha! Nah," She replies, sitting her backside down in the seat beside him, seemingly nonplussed at the arm Sam has draped over there. She is leaning forward a little though; her spine is a good three inches clear of the back of the chair. "Just figured hanging in the sandpit was a better option than being middle-man to the teen dramas of Gail and Nick."

Sam sticks his tongue inside his cheek, but gives McNally an open-mouthed smile anyway. Barely stops himself from running his hand down the nice stretch of the zip at the back of her dress.

Their banter is definitely something he misses a whole lot whenever –

Well. Whenever they're not...

"The happy couple not so happy?" Sam enquires, as mild as he can. He has no real interest in the goings on of Collins and Peck, other than his concerns about the fact that Andy and Army Boy appear to be so...close.

McNally shrugs high. "Apparently not." She takes a sip out of the glass of Champagne Sam was drinking from earlier, screws up her nose.

Her eyes head in the direction of the couple in question. They're caught up in a dark corner and look as though they might be having some terse words. "I think their timing continues to be...off."

Sam chances a look at McNally's face after she says it, tries to get a read on what _she_ might think about that.

She looks back at Sam, wide-eyed for a nano-second before she's back to relaxed. She shrugs high again, muscles in her bare shoulders working overtime. "Who even knows?"

The eye contact between them lasts for a long, long minute while Sam's mulling things about in his head. He doesn't generally like to dwell on how off kilter _they've_ been since the beginning, but now that things are starting to settle between them, he can't seem to stop the _what if's_ from entering his brain –

Sam averts his eyes back toward the_ real_ happy couple, the one that has just renewed their vows. The ones that told all their friends today that they've made the decision again; they are in this thing together for life. "Oliver Shaw?" Sam ponders out loud, voice cracking with the absurd thought of his buddy being the Master Zen re matters of the heart.

Sam looks back at the face of McNally, smiles as he watches the battle between her and her laugh. She purses her lips, holding in a _pfft_. Her cackle breaks free eventually though –

The sound of the familiar giggle brings an even bigger smile to Sam's face.

Andy manages to contain herself eventually, one hand on her chest as her shoulders continue to shake. As the laughter subsides she leans back on her seat, bare shoulders nestling into the sleeve of Sam's shirt.

He feels _it_ then, as with every time he touches her (or she touches him) –

_It._

That indescribable something that makes him feel alive, wanting, hopeful...

And completely out of control.

She must sense a change in him as it happens, because her watery eyes look back over his way and she bites at her lip. She doesn't move though, doesn't flinch with the knowledge they're in a position not dissimilar to the one they used on reflex so many times as a couple –

(Him with his arm around her.)

Sam tips his chin up in a challenge, more to himself than anything. The words that fall out of his mouth next aren't thought out or pre-empted, he just goes with his gut:

"You look really lovely tonight."

She smiles back at him, sincere. As per usual, there's a faint pink that crosses her cheeks, but unlike other times he might've complimented her, she doesn't shy away, or tell him a 'but'.

_(But I look like such a boy; but I've got such a small head; but my shoulders are enormous...are a few that she's used.)_

"Thanks, Sam," she replies, mildly surprised and a fraction breathless. "You're looking good too."

Sam smiles small, nods his head. He's working hard at keeping his hand very still as he keeps watching her, is conscious of not making a move that is...wrong.

The fact she's wearing her hair down and loose isn't helping his cause. The long, silky locks are cascading every which way, brushing at his knuckles. Every time her head shakes, Sam thinks something inside his chest might explode.

He's about to open his mouth again; continue the conversation from earlier. Maybe tell her about how Shaw might look 'together' tonight, but earlier today he broke out in a sweat –had himself convinced for about three minutes that Zoe might not show... that she might decide in the spur of the moment to run off with a man that was better looking, richer, smoother…and not a cop.

But as Sam goes to speak, he notices a guy headed their way; eyes square on McNally, like he's on a mission himself.

Sam swallows the dry in his throat and grinds at his teeth. He recognises the man as the younger brother of Zoe... Oliver bought him up in conversation recently. Well...bought up the fact he was recently divorced.

Sam squints and clenches his jaw. This past eternity in the friendly limbo that he and McNally have built up has been good in the sense that they've started to trust one another again, but it's also been _tough_ –

For one thing, the time and space has enabled Sam to become acutely aware of the fact that not only does he still love McNally, be he still _wants_ her. That particular piece of evidence has been hard to live with because he has no fucking idea _if_ or _how_ they're going to do this again...or even if _she _wants to. And it's not as though they're quite at the point where he can put it all on the line –

Still. The look on the guy headed in their direction is way too determined (and besotted) for Sam's liking. It's one thing for Sam to watch from the sidelines as McNally dances with Epstein and Diaz, or even Collins for that matter...

It's another thing entirely to have to sit here and see her in the arms of someone that could be –

Could become _more_ than a friend...

Sam looks back into McNally's eyes, smiling despite his sudden unease.

Within the space of three seconds he wants to do at least three things; first, he simply wants this moment to stay. He would give anything for it to be only them in the room, right here quiet and just looking at one another, even if that means they both stay mind-numbingly scared of what might happen next.

He also wants to get out of his seat and _go_. Get himself into the men's room or beyond, not wait around and watch her dance with that man. He wants to be in the fresh air, as far away as possible; telling himself that them not being together is 'for the best'.

It's the final thought that has Sam feeling the uneasiest he's been in a while. There's something about the option that has his heart pumping - excited, happy, anxious and terrified all at the same time –

It's only because it somehow makes sense in this moment that he goes with it -

So he asks her quiet, but clear; "McNally, you wanna dance?"

From where Sam is sitting, it looks as though maybe Andy is experiencing a similar array of thoughts on how to respond that he just has. At least three distinct expressions colour her as hours and hours seem to pass –

There's definitely some shock on her face in the first few seconds, doe-eyed deer in headlights, that kind of thing. And then her eyes bounce around the room, as though she's checking for the nearest exits, or someplace she might go for the floor to swallow her up.

But then her eyes settle back on Sam's, soft and warm and playful and teasing; Sam's favourite look. The smile on her grows from small to big in time with how Sam feels his own face changing. She nods and holds out one hand:

Tells him above the music; "I'd really love that."

* * *

Sam really doesn't mean to be a douche as they walk past Zoe's brother, but –

Yeah. Old habits die hard.

He gives the guy a bit of a friendly glare and tugs McNally closer into his side. Kicks himself mentally afterward for the streak of possessive that he has over her. Still, he schools his features carefully, tells himself to save his energy for the glares he might have to give others wanting to cut in on the dance floor.

* * *

Her heels have them at the same height, which is dangerous on various counts; when they are face to face, there is no escaping her eyes. There is also no escaping the fact that her waist and hips are at an angle that is way too familiar…

Sam cuts off that thought at the pass. Remembers he needs to pay some attention to the fact that he asked her to dance, and that he has to figure out quick-smart what that even means….

It's not like the couple of other times they've danced together -

(First time at The Penny, he took the lead by simply lifting her up and suggesting they dance -

The other time was after her housewarming when she stood in front of him practically naked. It was like some kind of foreplay, no way could Sam say no).

This time they stand there just looking at one another for a few moments, her hand in his while they figure out just how close they're allowed...

Sam steps in carefully. He figures that's the best way to approach it since _he _actually took the initiative to get her out here in the first place.

He lifts their joined hands slowly, watching her eyes as he raises them until they reach a point on his chest.

Andy's eyes drop to where he's just placed them. It's probably the biggest clue he'll manage to give her tonight: the fact that his heart is pounding all over the place.

She lifts her eyes again to his, lets her pretty lips go part of the way open to show Sam some tongue and some teeth.

It's while he's focused on McNally biting into her lip that Sam feels a hand at the back of his neck.

He knows in every part of his being that it belongs to Andy, but he's finding it hard to believe -

Her fingers are warmer than ever before; the way she touches the sensitive skin practically has Sam making out every line of every fingerprint that she has.

Sam likes that McNally's at eye level for this, has even prepared himself this past few seconds for the fact that when she takes a step in it gets them joined at the hip. But. For as prepared as he thought he was, Sam realizes he's not quite _that_ ready.

Until that point, he hadn't been paying a whole lot of attention to the music, but he figures he needs to focus on something other than McNally right now-

That he should try to get his bearings of the world outside the bubble they just made for themselves.

He takes a peek over her shoulder and smirks. The band is a good one, covers from every decade...some of which they've done as bluegrass. He's not surprised at the number that's playing, Ollie likes a range of things…but his preference is definitely along the lines of Country and Blues. Sam whispers in McNally's ear; "We can only hope they don't pull out the banjo on this."

Andy laughs bright, so close to Sam's cheek he thinks it might've transferred some of her lip gloss on there.

He smiles at the thought.

"Also," she preempts with a grin he can see without seeing. "If Oliver joins them on the stage, can we please excuse ourselves for some air?"

Sam does some more grinning himself. Allows himself a whiff of her vanilla shampoo.

Sam remembers her telling him back at JD's that this was the Shaw-Williams duet of that night he couldn't stay away from her another single day….

_Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown,_

_I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb…._

Sam only just stops himself from shaking his head, decides to maybe stop listening so hard after all.

But then the song goes much softer and quieter than Sam remembers it's meant to, so slow it actually makes no sense to move.

It's in one beat of silence that Sam just doesn't think anymore, a rush of every memory...and every hope for the future that meets at that point:

"I miss you."

The three words that come out of Sam's mouth are the same three words that are said by Andy -

At the same time.

From that moment on, they...and everything else in the room...go heartbreakingly still.

He pulls back enough to take a look in her eyes. What Sam sees there is what he imagines she might see in his:

Love, lust, fear, hope, worry...

Sam only feels a little less troubled by his confession because McNally looks like she might be in the same boat.

"Do we...what do we do now?" She asks him softly, one set of fingers not letting go of his neck, while the other set squeezes inside his hand.

At first Sam braces himself for an onslaught of McNally ideas. He is fully prepared for her to start answering her own question, chat his ears off with a long list of suggestions...

She doesn't though. She just keeps looking at Sam. Not like she's desperate for an answer, just appearing to be thoughtful about what Sam might suggest.

Another song starts as Sam tries to absorb that question. Another damn Kenny number, for godsake. This one just as close to the bone –

_On a warm summer's evenin', on a train bound for nowhere…_

Sam shoots a look at Oliver briefly. His good friend shoots one right back.

The thing is: Sam wants to be able to give McNally a straight answer. Wants to draw on all those years of cop training, give her something that leaves no room for confusion -

But Sam can't seem up to come up with anything. All he can do is keep looking at her, listen to the music and hold on tight to her while they figure out the new rhythm –

Sam does at least move though, get's his timing somewhere in the vicinity of what will work for where the song is heading.

Andy picks up on the change in moves quickly, asserts one or two of her own -

Sam smiles freely as he feels the renewed sway of her hips.

He takes a risk, shrugging one shoulder just a fraction, just to signify that he doesn't have the answers.

He does lean in a little further again though, locking their eyes as he delivers his next statement with an edge of question:

"We figure it out."

Andy smiles small and nods. After another few bars of the song, she rests her head on Sam's shoulder.

It's enough of a sign for Sam that they can keep moving together –

That they can try to make sense of it all.

_You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em…_

Sam chews the inside of his cheek. He silently hopes that for tonight they can just keep dancing and talking. He hopes they can just...

_Be._

As the song winds up, Sam detects that the band is about to crank out some rock. He's disappointed that the slower stuff is over, and is not quite ready for something that hard.

In the end, he decides to take action to keep things steady and slow...

He plants a gentle kiss onto the top of McNally's head, waits until she lifts her eyes. "Wanna go get some air?"

Andy bobs her head in agreement, as she squeezes Sam's hand. "Sounds good to me."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Decided I didn't want to leave them out in the cold for too long._

_ALSO: I'm really not in the business of attempting to explain what or why I write with the perspective I do, but to the 'guest reviewer' who was glad Ollie/Zoe worked things out, but was dubious as to why Andy would want to take Sam back (Unfortunately I can't reply to you personally): Zoe took up with some other guy while her and Ollie were separated, so I'm not sure why you'd have an issue with a Sam/Andy reunion when you don't seem to have a problem with the other pair (who have been in a similar mess). Aside that, this fic takes place well into the season, and as far as I'm concerned (read: hope), Andy has the insight to understand and accept __**why**__ Sam may have had made decisions that he has made over time even though they may have hurt her...(as he hopefully has come to terms with the decisions that __**she**__ has made along the way that have hurt him). We all make choices, they're not always right. Sometimes they hurt the people we love the most. But, for me, I see love as something that endures and forgives, and is hopeful and messy, and if it is genuine it will keep being that. If you don't want Andy to take Sam back (because, I understand you will have your own experience of life as well), I strongly recommend that you don't read this because there is not a single universe in which I don't believe that Andy and Sam love one another...no matter the wonderful mess they make out of it._

_(Apologies to other readers for such long-winded pre-emptive blurts that have no bearing on you, I do hope you enjoy the second part to this little show)._

**_Disclaimers: As per chapter 1_**

* * *

They take the long way 'round to the exit. Andy suspects that just as she is, Sam is sensitive to the eyes that are watching them closely.

The dance floor is one thing; public view and expectations of what actually happens when two people decide to move to music together, and all that.

But_ going for air_ is different. Even Andy knows that.

She swerves her way through the tables until she finds her coat on the back of a chair. Actually, she doesn't even check that it _is_ her coat; she just wants to keep her and Sam moving along.

She's greeted by a couple of high eyebrows by Traci as she snatches the garment. There's a waggle to them, in fact.

Traci leans back in her seat and crosses her legs, looks over Sam's way. She twists her mouth and gives him some eyebrow too...its more of a...warning...that he gets from Nash.

Andy ignores what might be going through Traci's mind. Her friend has been supportive and patient from day one regarding Andy's...thing...with Sam. Recently she's even taken to advocating for him:

("If you don't think you can move on just yet, then hang in there; just focus on _you_. I think that's what _he's_ trying to do now...specially since he dumped Cruz...he'll find his way there if he wants to, and when he does, be ready. Be sure of what _you_ want, be sure that you know _yourself_...")

Andy briefly wonders whether Oliver and Traci have been comparing Master Zen notes. After all, Shaw has said similar things.

She turns back toward Sam, makes sure he's still following. She can't help the cloud that hangs over her - thoughts that he may have changed his mind -

He's there though. Right there behind her.

Has his eyes focused pretty hard on what she's doing and where she's headed, actually. He smiles at her warmly, nudges her forward gently into a clear space with his hand at the small of her back.

She teeters in her heels a little, inching them toward the frame in the wall that leads to fresh air.

When she's more confident with her footing, she picks up some pace.

* * *

She exhales the breath she was holding when they finally get through there. It's long and noisy, and would be embarrassing but for the fact that Sam releases a similar one too.

They stop in the spot just outside the exit, in effect their two bodies are close together and blocking the door. It's almost as though they're both deciding whether being out here was a good idea, or not. All of a sudden they are in unchartered territory…

Again.

Andy swallows, smiles across at Sam because he's smiling too. "Well. We made it," she says.

Sam laughs, this resonant sound that spreads some heat through Andy. "Was there ever any doubt that we would?" he teases, a look on his face that suggests he's worried that Andy actually _didn't_ think they'd get out that door in one piece.

Andy shrugs; letting loose with some giggles because of how nervous she is -

(She wasn't before...earlier. When they were on the dance floor, and even before that...

Okay, she may have been a little shell-shocked a couple of times, but mostly it all just felt really...really..._really_...nice. She misses how…good…how right things feel…when Sam and her _are_ actually on the same page).

But inside there was some safety in numbers, there were _reasons_ to be there doing things like talking to your...ex...the man you still happen to love, but have no idea what that even _means_ any more...

("Whatever we might _feel_ for one another…it's like…maybe they just aren't enough to make us _work_…" That's what he told her when she got back –

She agreed with him too. For as heartbroken as she was that he hadn't waited for her…she gets _why_ he tried to move on. She's questioned it so many times herself; love does not make a relationship all by itself.

The words _you walked away from us again_ have haunted her every day since she came back -

Forever walking away…it's what they've _both_ done on different occasions…

Aside the times that they _have_ stayed -

Would things have been different if she had stayed this time around? If she had somehow gotten a message to Sam to tell him that she wanted to give him that second chance in the first place? If she had told him all she needed was some time and some space, think things through without him _there_ every day?

She remembers the pain when she thought all of those things _while_ she was UC. If only she could've read _Sam's_ signs _before_…read his mind…figured out what he _wasn't_ communicating to her when Jerry died. If anyone should understand coping with trauma, it's Andy…so why couldn't she just _see_…)

Out here now, the wide-open space has Andy a little disoriented. Despite the stars and the moon, it's dark... and quiet. And Sam may not be touching her anymore, but he's still right by her side. Looking...amazing...

And she thinks they might just have agreed to 'figure it out.' Figure out ..._them_...and their where to from here…

"I did doubt it, Sam, before…" Andy whispers into the darkness, the exit reminding her of that. "Us. You. Me. I've doubted the lot…I still do, I can't help it. After everything…before we were even an us…and then when Jerry…and you breaking things off….and then…" she takes a slow, shaky breath. "Everything, Sam. Some days, it's like doubt runs through my veins." She looks away from him momentarily, looks up to the stars for some help. "I'm terrified, Sam…"

Sam does hold on to her then, one warm hand on her elbow; "Me too," he admits quietly. "I know what you mean."

His eyes are beautiful under the light of the stars, despite how sad…how regretful they look. He shakes his head, runs his hand from her arm to the tips of her fingers, then laces them between each of his own. "I just…all I know…is that despite everything, despite all of those doubts and those fears…I still feel the same…"

Andy nods, she gets that part too. She knows he cares about her, that he finds her attractive, that he…she knows that he _loves _her. Even when he was with Marlo, she knew that…knew that he was fighting against it with every part of his being…just like Andy was when she was with Luke –

Just like Andy has tried to fight it for every single month since she's been back.

* * *

They stand there, silence all around them for minutes and minutes…just looking into one another's eyes. Both too afraid that whatever they might say next will be _it_ –

A death knell to '_them'_ once and for all.

"You warm enough?" Sam asks finally, avoiding the difficult conversation and running a hand down the lapel of her coat.

Andy nods, relieved to be prolonging the moment, relieved to just_ be_ in this moment _with_ him. "You throw off enough heat for us both," she winks, taking a step in closer.

Sam lets out a dry laugh, and then starts hustling her around the corner to a darker spot still. She lets him lead her to yet another unknown, trusts that he'll get them to a place where they're not in full view -

"Figured we could use some more space," he murmurs, nestling Andy's body between his and the wall.

She smiles up at him, all sorts of beautiful aches spreading through her as his hard, solid muscles line up against hers.

Both of them lean in instinctively, their mouths less than one inch apart.

Andy closes her eyes and breathes in synch with him, takes in his scent.

She can feel his mouth getting closer, anticipates the familiar nudge on the nose. But as the tips of their noses touch, he pauses, and goes no further than that.

She opens her eyes to watch, wondering if he might be thinking the same thing as her –

(They can't, or at least _shouldn't_ jump to their default position –

_Lusting things out._)

He smiles small at her, keeps his nose perfectly still in the spot. "In the interest of us continuing to promote transparency and honesty in our relationship…"

Andy giggles a little, but holds herself as still as she can. She loves him, she does. Even when he is the world's biggest dork.

"Gonna tell you right now, McNally," Sam continues softly. "Even though I'm pretty sure you already _know_ it…" he bumps his hips forward, pinning hers to the wall. "I want nothing more than to get us a room…show you…just how much I miss you…how much I still…love you…"

Andy smirks again; thankful of the darkness so he can't see the extent of the blush she's got going –

"Now who's throwing off some heat?" he teases, rubbing one hand down her side on the inside of her coat.

She smacks at his shoulder lightly, enjoying the attention but not wanting to give everything away just yet. "Shut up," she giggles, and then runs a hand down his chest.

"But," he says, voice going serious. "For as awesome as that might be…I know it's not what we need to do…not what we _should_ do right now."

* * *

She smiles back at him, can't stop smiling. She definitely would not have objected to them getting that room; she _wants_ him to touch her all over, make love to her all night -

Can't think of anything more wonderful in fact.

Except, Sam's right. Them _showing_ love was never one place that their communication got lost -

They need to talk and listen if they're going to take any sort of step in the direction of actually figuring things out.

"So, what do you propose instead?" Andy murmurs. "You gonna sweep me off my feet again some other way, Swarek?"

The smile Sam gives her then shoots all the way between Andy's chest and her knees, bouncing between the two like it might never stop.

"I'm ...gonna try," he says, after clearing his throat. "If what we're deciding now is that we want...that we want to be together...give _us_ another shot…I wanna try every day."

Andy nods her head in rapid-fire beats. "I wanna try too, Sam." She tries to articulate what she thinks that trying might look like. "One day at a time...we talk, we listen," she says, a real atmosphere of excitement filling the air.

Sam's chest heaves as he catches some breath, continuing the momentum they have started; "we don't try to solve everything all at once..."

Andy nods her head vigorously. "We don't expect everything to be perfect, but we work towards that...we tell one another what we want…what we need...and compromise if we ever think we _can't_ do that..."

"We figure out our problems…and try solve them together….work as a team," Sam's voice gets a little louder, his grip on her tightening.

"And we still have _fun_," Andy announces, all sorts of elated and demanding with the extra confidence that she's feeling about things. "Because _we_ are a _team _that has _fun._"

"We definitely are," Sam nods once in agreement, his voice and face faux-serious. "And we need a lot of it, okay?"

He's smiling at her like a goofball now, and Andy loves it. Suspects her own grin might be a little crazy or manic all in itself.

"Is that where we start?" she asks suddenly, brow furrowing with some confusion still as to the pragmatics of where to from here.

Sam quirks an eyebrow in silent question…but as per usual, he finally catches up to where Andy's mind might have raced. He smiles _'because his partner is his partner'_ slowly, and then he nods. "Did you get smarter when we broke up?" His teasing is a little easier and less worried than it has been this past few months, and Andy loves that as well.

She laughs brightly, can't help but stick her tongue out at the end. "You don't even know the half of it," she replies a heartbeat later, one eyebrow up and keeping the grin fixed on her face.

He chews into his bottom lip, and puts his hands up in surrender. Only then he moves them to rest on her cheeks. "Guess I've got a lot of catching up to do then."

Andy seriously needs to stop smiling before her face breaks, probably. But she just can't. She wants to kiss him pretty badly, but she also wants to stay in this moment forever –

The two of them just wanting and hoping and being –

"So. Fun is where we start, huh?" Sam breaks into the small stretch of silence. "I think we can actually work with that…"

"Slow and steady…" Andy says softly.

Sam smiles small. "That way, any falls we have along the way won't hurt too much."

Andy can't help herself then, she leans in and embraces him tight around the middle, tucks her face into his neck. In an effort not to reach up and kiss him hard on the mouth, she simply plants a light one at the edge of his jaw.

She feels the warm, steady of his arms go all the way around her, hands rubbing up and down her back as he pulls her away from the wall. "Love you, McNally," he tells her quietly, not a hint of expectation that the statement might be returned.

"Love you too, Sam," she mumbles into him, smiling and trying not to think about what tomorrow or the day after may hold.

* * *

An eternity of standing in that position, Sam speaks to her softly again. "We should go back inside. Wish the happy couple well for the next chapter in life."

Andy nods and pulls back, holds out her hand.

They walk in together, just like that. There's no intent for the hand-holding gesture to be any more than what it is; two people walking in the same direction, maintaining a connection, and wondering what may crop up on their path.

"Sammy! McNally!" Oliver bellows, jogging in their direction with a silly grin on his face.

Their friend and colleague is definitely drunk on something –

Alcohol, or love, or probably both.

He throws his arms around the pair of them, gives a bear hug of sorts. "I thought we mighta lost you both…"

Andy giggles as the senior officer squeezes her tightly. Gives her an eyebrow when he spots some errant lip gloss underneath Sam's cheek and the fact that there's hand-holding that is obstructing him from pumping a friendly fist into Sam's side.

Sam grins, squeezes Andy's hand gently. "Nah, buddy. You know we always come back."


End file.
